How to Blink
by Ode to Ivy
Summary: No name. No memories. No self-control. She doesn't know where she came from, or how she got here. She doesn't know where here is. All she knows is the comfort of her cell. And the power. The power feels good coursing through her, but it also hurts. It tears her apart, but also brings her together. It is her light in the darkness, and the knife in her back.
1. Chapter 1

Blood, screams and suffering. That's what comes to my mind when I hear the word people. I feel like it should be different, but then the feeling passes and I am sure what I think is correct.

I stand looking in the mirror. There aren't mirrors in my cell. Mirrors are liars. This mirror tells me that my skin is a sickly pale color and that I have large, purple bags under my eyes. My pale purple eyes. It says to me that my hair is dirty and in desperate need of a cut. It lies to me that I am strong and muscular. I know what I look like. I am pale, but not too pale. I have stunning blue eyes and healthy brown hair. I am normal weight with a bit of pudge. I am not strong.

I turn away. Then I turn back. I slam my hand into it, the now broken glass slicing into my skin. It makes a loud shattering noise. I forgot that I was on a mission. I've got to stop doing that. I'm sure now that my target is awake. It doesn't matter. He doesn't stand a chance.

My target's house is nice. It's big, and old. His furniture sucks. Everything inside is wooden; the only color I see is brown. Brown walls, brown floors, brown stairs. I creep down the boring brown stairs. Maybe he didn't hear me smash his mirror. He didn't do anything when I smashed the window. I better still be quiet. I almost don't notice the intense burning sensation in my hand. It's currently glowing purple, the energy healing it.

I'm on the first floor now. My hand has stopped glowing. I lose track of how many rooms I look into. They all look the same. Finally, I see him. He's cowering in the corner of his bedroom, shaking like a baby. So he had heard me break his window. And his mirror. He probably knows why I'm here, too.

He's shaking as he stands up. He's probably surprised that his killer's a girl. I grab the gun out of the holster with my right hand and grip it tightly. I raise it until it's aimed at his head. I am ready to pull the trigger when he speaks.

"W-why?" His voice is hard to understand. I think he's crying. "W-what did I do? I-I g-gave h-him the mo-money!" Yes, he's crying. Is thin face is shiny with tears.

I don't answer him. I wasn't ordered to talk. Instead, I pull the trigger. His blood splatters against the wall behind him and his body crumples to the floor. I hear screaming coming from under the bed. Little voices are crying. They haven't seen me, I can still leave.

I turn my body and start to walk when he talks. "You're a monster." The voice is confident, although weak. Stupid kid, he had a chance to live. I turn, and see two little boys. They're both scared. I don't know why. Death isn't scary, it happens to everyone.

"You killed my father," it speaks again. "Mommy's going to get you." The smaller one doesn't say anything. I tilt my head, listening for orders. I receive none, so I do as a usually do; I pull the trigger. The larger one dies with one bullet, the smaller one takes two. It's a shame; they probably would have lived great lives.

I think back to what the man had asked. Why? What did he do? I knew why. Because I was ordered to. What did he do? He got himself killed. Silly questions, really. I don't see the point in asking them., but they all do anyway.

I holster my gun and turn, walking to the front of the house. I don't have to sneak out a window, now I can use the front door. Leaving is always so much easier than entering. The door squeaks a little bit when I open it. A black car waits for me down the block. I make my way down to it, slowly. They won't be mad if I'm a little late.

I get in the back seat, waiting for them to talk first. There are three men this time. Strange. There's usually only two. There's the old one. He has grey hair and brown eyes. Frown lines and he slouches a bit. Dr. Livick. The second one is also familiar. He's middle aged, with brown hair just beginning to turn grey and green eyes. He's fit, and chiseled. Agent Sinwest. The third one is what amuses me. He's young. And built. His muscles bulge in every place they can and he doesn't seem happy. None of them ever do.

"Mission status?" Sinwest asks, typing something on his phone. It's all the permission I need to speak.

"Jones died easily. Then I found out he had kids." He raised his head at this. So they hadn't been watching me. That's rare.

"And?" He asked, growing impatient.

"And I took care of them. I left their mother a surprise."

"Good." Back to his phone. The rest of the ride was silent.

Yes, good. I saw the blood, I heard the screams, and I knew they all suffered. Suffered knowing he would die while his kids watched his body fall. Suffered in knowing that by talking to me they would die, too.

And I am once again convinced that those three words are the right ones. The ones that should be thought of when hearing 'people'.

 **((AN: So, what do you think? I know this is really short. I will try to make chapter about 2,000 words a piece. Is it good? Please let me know. -Ivy))**


	2. Chapter 2

**((AN: Hey, Ivy here! This ones a bit longer, I hope you enjoy!))**

Power, protection and security; gun.

Halfway through the car ride I am blindfolded and handcuffed. I am used to it, but this time there's something different. The new guy is blindfolded and handcuffed too. I don't say anything. They haven't told me to. I sit back and enjoy the ride.

A few hours later we have arrived. I know that because I hear the car doors slam. It's a minute or two before mine open and arms grab me. I can only assume they grab him, too. I am roughly hauled into the large building. I am shoved through hallways and corridors, rooms and offices, until we reach the elevator. They push me inside. I bump against something. Maybe it's the new guy.

It's a good few minutes before the elevator dings; signaling that my time in it is done. I hear the doors open and I stumble out, more rough hands grabbing at me and pushing me forward. I hear the familiar turn of a key and I am thrown inside.

Someone waits for me inside. They take the handcuffs and blindfold away before shutting the door harshly behind them. I hear the lock click once again. I sigh in content. I love my cell.

It's not really even a cell; it's a cage. But it's my cage. There are no windows, no light to get in and blind me. Mirrors are nonexistent, just the way I like it. In the corner there is a small bed. I don't have any place to put my belongings because I don't have any. There's a toilet, and a sink, too.

I press a hand to my chest, my dark purple suit melting into fresh, clean clothes. It was the only gift I have ever received. No, the energy. That is my greatest gift, and my greatest curse.

On my bed there is a deck of cards. I had some, in the beginning, but they took them away. These ones are new, and red. I wonder what they're trying to pull.

I lay down, the bare grey walls and ceiling comfort me, tell me I'm on of their own. I don't have to turn off any lights because there are none, just whatever manages to float in from under my door. I suppose it should be pitch-black. But it isn't. Ever since the energy, I can always see. In the dark, underwater, in the light. It's just hard, because it takes a bit for the energy to kick in. Especially in the light. It's weird, I think, and that it never seems to work when they blindfold me.

I lay on the hard mattress. It's the softest thing I've felt all day. I close my eyes and instantly sleep takes over my body.

Nightmares. That's all they are. I'm young; at least I think it's me. She looks kind of like me, I think. Except she's smiling. That doesn't look like me. It can't be me. She's nine, maybe ten. They're at the park. I think it's the park. I'm on a swing. No, she's on a swing. There's a man pushing her. He has black hair and a kind smile. There's a boy sitting on the swing next to her, thirteen or fourteen. He has blonde hair and brown eyes. I think he looks familiar, but I know he doesn't. My nightmare starts to darken. I'm waking up. Quickly, I take a look at who is pushing the boy. It's a woman. She has brown hair, like the little girl. But she has brown eyes, like the rest of them.

It fades darker, black seeping into the corners of my mind and pushing it away. I am ready to go when I notice something. There are black cars pulling up around the block. Something's wrong.

I feel a sharp pain in my side and my eyes open. I look around franticly before realizing that they've stabbed me again. It happens every time I won't wake up and they need me. They're should be a scar, but there isn't. The energy takes care of that.

It seeps from the air and circles around my bloody wound. As it touches I am tempted to scream in pain. It hurts. I know it's healing me but I feel that it is ripping skin off of my body one layer at a time. It is the most painful part of my mornings.

Once it finishes and I sit up, I unclench my fists. I stare blankly at the wall ahead of me, waiting for orders.

"It's dangerous this time," Sinwest says from the side of me. They're all considered 'dangerous' but it must be bad is he's telling me this time. I wait for him to continue. "We've found a S.H.I.E.L.D. hideout. We don't know when it was last used but we think they have information stored in it. It will be a two day mission for you two."

I stopped getting ready and turned to look at him. I'm sure my face showed that I was confused. I don't do joint missions. I never have, and I never will.

"I work alone." My voice sounded harsh, like a warning. Sinwest takes a step forward and I sweep my gaze away.

"You will do as you're told, Subject Five," he whispers calmly. I nod my head and continue to get ready. I press my shirt and if morphs, my purple suit changing back. The gun was still in its holster.

Without warning I am blindfolded and handcuffed one again.

It took about a day to get there, I think. I've switched cars three times and planes twice. When we were wherever we needed to be, the blindfold was ripped off my head and the handcuffs taken off harshly. The light blinds me instantly. I can't close my eyes, I didn't even think to. Instead, my vision turns purple as the energy did its thing. The pain leaves me wishing that I couldn't see at all.

I look around. It was me, Sinwest, and the new guy. I tilt my head.

"Subject Five," Sinwest smiles, "meet your new partner; Subject Seven." So there he is. Not the seventh subject they'd gotten, just the seventh one to live. "He's your muscle on this mission. He will do whatever you say or he will go back to testing. You were briefed on what you need to retrieve?"

I nod my head and began to walk away. They had dropped us off two miles from the building. It was in the middle of a field, not that easy to miss. Subject Seven follows me. I was mad. All I had to do was get a flash drive. Why did I need this joke of a test subject? I feel the familiar flow of power through my body and relax. I can't kill him. They'd put me back in testing.

We got to the building quickly, hugging the tree line around it. Subject Seven moved to enter the premises, but I took a hand out to stop him. I pick a stick off of the ground and throw it at the building. A bullet shoots at it. I should have let Seven go. What use is he anyways? My eyes scan the building and the land around it. I don't see any cameras, but I know they're here.

Then my eyes land on the gun. It's hidden but not unnoticeable. It's on the roof, waiting to shoot anything that comes within range. I point to it. Seven nods.

On instinct, my hand extends, a purple orb of energy emitting from it. The gun shatters into many pieces and the energy dissolves into the air. I walk forward. Seven takes this as his cue to follow.

We easily jump over the fence and start to jog towards the front entrance. Bullets fire. I curse myself. Of course there would be more than one gun. I feel a sharp pain in my shoulder, and another one in my leg. I put out my hand, a purple wall of energy forming in front of it. The bullets bounce off. I feel weak. One hits and cracks my wall of protection. I don't care if Seven got hit, I limp until I am at the side of the building. I let the energy dissolve, and I take a couple of deep breaths, closing my eyes.

Pure pain. It ignites in side of me, spreading like a wild fire. My arm feels like it's going to fall off. My leg feels like I've crushed every bone inside of it. I feel dizzy. My vision blurs slightly. My skin is a tinted purple color. I feel the bullets being pulled out of my skin. Not fast enough it's over, and my vision is clear again. Two bullets lay on the grass in front of me, stained bloody.

I look around. Seven in nowhere to be seen. I take a deep breath. A hole erupts in the wall next to me and I see Seven standing there, waiting for me to enter. I do. To me he is still useless.

I don't care to notice the details as I am inside. I know the guns had cameras. I know we're almost out of time. And I know what I am looking for.

I run, searching through every room. Only when every room has been looked through that I am stupid. Of course it wouldn't be in a room. It would be underground. I have waited more time. Maybe I deserve to go back to testing. I send Seven off to disable the guns on the roof. I hope he dies.

I run down the stairs and into the basement. Secret underground facilities are easy to find. You just look for what's out of place. Or rather, what's too perfectly in place. I press in a brick on the wall. The only one that isn't chipped. Part of the floor opens up, a white staircase leading down. Of course it should be dark, but it's not.

Computers. That's what I see. Rows and rows of outdated computers. And then I see my target. It's in the first row, plugged into the third computer. I race to it, stopping when I get there. My hand hovers over it, temped to pull it out and be done with the mission. My hand moves to the keyboard. I'm going to get into trouble for this. Without me granting them permission, my fingers start to type. Whatever is on the drive is locked. Someone clears their throat behind me. I quickly pull the flash drive out and stuff it in my pocket, lifting my gun as I turn around.

It's Seven. He's watching me with narrowed eyes. "The mission was to retrieve the drive, not look at what's on it." His voice is very deep. What I was expecting. I was ordered to talk, so I don't. Instead, I lead the way up from the basement.

I stop at the top. I can see the enemy outside, surrounding us. Their guns are drawn, and they look rather pathetic. I glance at Seven. He looks back at me. I hiss at him. "You're the muscle, you handle this!" I can get out of here just fine, but he hasn't died yet so I still have one more chance. He shoots past me and runs into the wall, creating another large hole. The agents shoot at him. He stumbles as he gets hit. I am tempted to smile. I work my way up to the second floor, letting Seven do his thing.

As I am about to make my grand escape, something fells a little off to me. I turn, and a man stands there. He doesn't hold a gun, but a bow and arrow. It's raised at my head. He looks grim, his arms are strong and he seems to be well trained. I stare at him and he stares right back at me.

"You have something of mine little lady," the enemy says. He smiles, ready to let go of the arrow anytime. I remember that I'm by a window. I don't say anything. I wasn't ordered to. Instead, I throw myself backwards and catch a glimpse of his surprised face before I hear glass shattering. I feel the shards slice into my skin but I also feel something else in my right shoulder. I look and see that I have an arrow lodged into my skin. So, he did end up shooting me. How fun.

I land on the ground in a pile of glass, but nobody else shoots at me. The entire enemy is laying on the ground, and Seven stands nearby panting heavily. He's shot in several places but doesn't seem to mind.

I get to my feet and another arrow hits my calf, making me stumble down. I look up to see the archer staring down at me through the window I had just broken, notching another arrow. I scramble to Seven and tell him to carry me to the nearest car. He puts me in the passenger side. He drives away. No more arrows were fired.

I gaze down at my calf. I hold my breath as I grab the arrow and pull it out. Flesh and blood comes with it. Instantly, purple hovers over it and begins healing. My leg is numb. I can't feel anything but I know it hurts. Next, I grab the arrow in my shoulder and pull. It's caught on something. I tighten my hold and yank on it. It comes out, but part of the bone does too. I stare at it, not really knowing what to do. Seven doesn't say anything. He just keeps driving.

And then the most painful healing I have ever experienced begins. My bone is pushed back in with a sickening crunch. My flesh starts to regrow around it, the muscle stretching back into place. New blood cells are created and I have use of my arm again. The first thing I do with it is roll down the window. I vomit.

We travel for hours until we reach the rendezvous point. It only took us a day and a half. We both climb in. Seven is still bleeding.

"Well?" Sinwest is already impatient.

I grab the drive out of my pocket and hold it up. "Mission was easy. Seven slowed me down."

Sinwest gave a smile and took the drive. "Well, I guess Seven is going back to testing, isn't he?" Those are the last words I hear before I am blindfolded and handcuffed.


	3. Chapter 3

Pain, disgust, wrong; memories.

The days pass like any other, except something is wrong. My nightmares occur more and more. I see the little girl getting abducted by the people in the black cars. I see her parents getting shot, and her older brother crying.

They don't disappear from my memory in the morning like they usually do. That is how I know I am faulty. Like a computer, I have bugs that need to be fixed. A virus, running inside of me; controlling my every move and action. It tells me not to inform Sinwest that I am broken. I am scared that I obey myself.

And that is how I know that I am perhaps beyond repair. I am never scared. Never in my life have I felt like my targets, cowering and sniffling in the corner asking why before I shoot them.

I won't sleep tonight. Besides, I don't feel like getting stabbed in the morning. Feelings, how absurd. I really should tell Sinwest.

My cell door opens and a plate of foot is set on the floor. It closes, metal scraping against concrete. I get fed once a day. If I ever starve the energy just heals me, makes me feel full. Not before making me want to throw up, however.

I notice that my thoughts have changed. Things seem more detailed to me, now. It feels good. Words. I know more words, now. Like _good_ and _memory_. I knew them before, but now I _understand_ them. I wonder how I know them. Strange.

I have another mission, or so I have been told. I have received a new morphing suit since the old one has multiple holes in it. It is shoved at me through the door and I am told to change. I do as I'm told, and my world turns black once again.

This time, it has nothing to do with S.H.I.E.L.D. I haven't seen Seven since he went back to testing, but I have heard his screams. I almost feel bad for him. Put that on the list of things that need to be fixed in me.

I am shoved out of the car while it is still moving. At least they took my handcuffs off. I reach a hand up to the top of my head and slide the blindfold off. I'm in a ghost town. Nothing here but old buildings and litter from passing tourists.

I tap my earpiece. "Wrong drop zone." My voice sounds different. It's not harsh like it usually is; it's kind and gentle. I should have told Sinwest.

"You're target's house is fifteen and a half miles west. This is the closest we could get you without being suspicious. Get going and signal us here when you have finished." Siswet's voice is urgent, like he has better things to do.

They've not watched my missions for a long time now. It's almost as if they trust me. Almost.

I turn and begin to walk. My shirt feels itchy. I am not used to being in normal clothes. I was told to dress as a normal citizen, but I didn't expect it to be so uncomfortable.

My thoughts wander as I walk. They've never done that before. It feels good. There goes that word again. _Good_. I try saying it out loud.

"Good." It tastes weird to say, and kind of bad. I don't want to ever say it again.

The walk is long and lonely. Another word I don't like. No cars are passing on the road, and it's another hour or so before I see a town in the distance. As I travel closer, I go over the mission in my head. My target's house is blue, one story, and two bedrooms. I am to enter from the kitchen window, as it points to the most secluded spot.

There are people outside, but barely any. I easily slip past them until I find the house I am searching for. I slip behind it so that my back is to a brick building and dig around in my pocket for my knife. Unlocking windows is one of my favorite things, next to shooting people, of course.

I slide the blade in-between the window and the lock, until it clicks open. I slowly slide it open, and slip inside. It stinks. I am tempted to throw up it stinks so badly. I don't let that bother me as I continue through the small house. As I get closer to the last bedroom, the stench gets worse. I hold my breath and kick open the door.

Lying on the ground in front of me is my target's decomposing body. His flesh is purple and starting to peel away. Maggots are nesting in the exposed flesh, wiggling through his body. He's been dead for a while.

An arrow sticks out of his head. I recognize it immediately. It's the same type of arrow that the strange archer had shot me with days ago. There's a white slip of paper attached to it. My hand reaches out to snatch it and unroll it.

It reads; _Got here first, better luck next time._

My hand crumbles it into a ball and throws it against the wall. I make the mistake of breathing in and gag. I close the door and try to think, but for some reason my brain won't work. I'm supposed to be trained on what to do in these types of situations, and I know I am, but nothing comes to mind.

I find myself running out of the house, and away from the town. I have to tell Sinwest, right? That is the only thing going through my mind as I continue to run. Run to the ghost town, run until you can't run anymore.

It feels like just a short time when I am back where I was dropped off. I press the com in my ear and try to explain what had happened. No words come out.

"Subject Five, what is your status?" I recognize Sinwest's voice. "Subject Five, report!" My mouth feels dry. "Subject Five, is the mission over? Subject Five!"

"Sir, there was a problem with the mission." At last, I find myself able to speak. The voice growls back at me.

"What, problem?"

"My target was already dead. He's been that way for a while now. By the same archer that shot me on mission Scavenge." My hand goes up to my shoulder, and I can still remember the pain of pulling the arrow out.

"We-"There are other voices. I can't hear anything.

"You will be retrieved." The com buzzes and goes dead. They just cut off my communications. There's nothing left to do but sit and wait, so I do just that.

The sun scorches my skin as I sit in the dirt. My skin will be bright red in the morning, for sure. I haven't been allowed this much sun ever since….I squint my eyes. Ever since what? I hit the ground with my fist, angry at myself for not being able to remember.

It is a few hours before I see a black car driving down the broken road. It stops in front of me and a door opens. Sinwest, Livick and Seven are all inside.

I step in the car and sit next to Sinwest. The two H.Y.D.R.A. agents regard me with caution for the first time in my seemingly short memory. Seven stares at me blankly, grim as ever.

I start to worry as we roll down the road for hours. Nobody is talking. Even worse, no fabric is pulled over my head. They do handcuff me, however.

My eyes wander to the window. The scenery has turned green. We are in a forest of some sorts. As we continue to ride, the trees get thicker. Another hour or so, when the sky is dark and the stars out, I see a building ahead. I know it is the H.Y.D.R.A. base. I've seen it before. No, I haven't. That's strange.

I am escorted into the building and down the elevator by Sinwest, the doctor, and a few other agents. Seven has disappeared again. I am taken to a room that is all too familiar. No, actually it's not. I turn to walk out, but the armed guards stop me. I turn back.

The room is made of concrete walls. There are no windows and lights hang from the ceiling. There is a chair hooked up to a machine in the middle, and various computers and medical equipment around the room. Three doctors are waiting by the chair.

"Please, sit." Livick's voice draws me out of my distraction. I do as I'm told.

"We took Seven back for testing." It was Sinwest this time. "We went through his brain, pin-pointing just where he went faulty." I try to hold my gaze, but I know I look away. Fear flashes inside of me. What is going on? Why am I behaving like this?

"We know about you trying to open the drive. We also know that your thoughts are changing." I am not going to deny this. It is true. He seems to wait for me to talk.

"What happened to that little girl? Where is she now?" I just want to know the answer.

"Wipe her." Sinwest turns and leaves the room. Those two simple words ring through my ears, so familiar but yet just out of reach. Arms grab mine, along with my legs and stomach, pushing me back into the chair. I am strapped down, though I try to break free. Two metal pieces are fit around my head.

I stop struggling when Dr. Livick's face appears above mine. He puts a mouth guard into my mouth. I hold his gaze as he says something to another doctor and the pain starts.

It spreads inside of me, just as bad as any healing I've ever experienced. I try to scream, but the sounds are muffled by the mouth guard. My eyes squeeze closed and I clench my fists. I can feel my mind going blank. The pain is all too much. It's making my whole body numb, I can't feel anything. I'm not sure if I'm breathing or not. I try to hold on to my memories, grasp at anything, but I can't. They're all slipping away; replaced by the pain. The last thing I remember before my vision turns black, is the feeling that I have indeed been here before. Many, many times.


	4. Chapter 4

Foreign, strange, unwelcome; new.

Two months later.

I have another mission for S.H.I.E.L.D. I am to travel back to the same place the strange archer shot me twice. This time, instead of Subject Seven, I will be with Subject Zero.

I thought Subject Zero was a myth, like the Winter Soldier, but I guess I was wrong. Subject Zero is very much alive, and very much silent.

Apparently I grabbed the wrong drive the first time. I am to grab a different one, this time. We make our way to their headquarters, silently.

Subject Zero Is bald. She is my height, and even more muscular. She wears a vest, showing off her bulky arms. I notice scars running down her flesh, crisscrossing and zig-zagging. All the subjects have scars from testing, but not like this. It is impossible to tell where one scar begins and another ends.

I am told through my earpiece to be careful, last time we almost didn't make it out. The details are fuzzy to me. I remember a lot of pain, and Subject Seven, but the rest is a blur.

I find myself warning Zero when we have closely arrived to the HQ's location.

"Careful for the guns." It is short and gruff, just the way I am used too. Subject Zero looks at me. I stare back at her. It's like she wants to do something, but stops herself. Whatever.

"I'll disable the cameras." Her voice is different. It's not gravely, like I'm used to. It's….crisp. And clear. I shake it off. Testing does different things to different people.

I focus, spreading my hand out in front of me. An orb of pure purple energy emits from it and I knock out both of the guns located on the roof. The purple disappears. I turn to signal Zero, but she is right behind me, watching my every move with her large, chocolate brown eyes. What a creep.

I use my hand to signal that we can move on, and I lead the way. There is still a hole in the side of the building from the last time I was here. We use that to enter.

Down in the basement, I press the brick and the floor slides open, revealing the secret entrance to the drive's location. There is a thump above us. I look over at Zero and she is already going up the stairs. Her moves are silent and quick, impossible to detect.

I walk down to the secret floor and look around. I see no other drives. My eyes narrow, looking for secret buttons or levers. I sneak around the room, gazing at the floor. Something here has to be out of place. I hear movement above me, and then a loud crash. I have to hurry up. I slide my fingers under a table of computers. Nothing.

My hands scan under the next one, and then the next one, never coming up with anything. The second to last table is before me and I swipe my hand under it. Bingo. The drive is pure white, with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s logo on it in black. I put it into my pocket and go to walk upstairs.

My way is block by a man holding a bow and arrow aimed at my face. The mysterious archer. I know him; he shot me twice. He is the same man that keeps relocating all of my targets before I can kill them. He leaves a very nice note every time explaining that what I do is wrong, and how he's sorry I am forced to do this. He also says that I should blink more often. What a fucking jackass.

"Hey, it's you!" He sounds happy. I like my target's crying in corners.

My fists clench, purple glowing faintly around them.

"Sorry, I really can't allow you to steal that. Yea, alright, the last one was a fake. Bought us a little time to figure out your plans, yeah?" He's smiling, talking like he's not about to die. I feel myself getting angered. He should be cowering, fearing for his life.

"Alright, alright, fun's over. Hand it to me." Now that amuses me. I move my hand to the side and he fires, but it does nothing. There is a purple wall of energy in front of me, now with an arrow stuck in it. I feel the power running through me, causing the familiar warm feeling.

"Black Widow's taking care of your friend upstairs. You won't win this." Upstairs, I forgot. I look up, and the archer laughs.

"Yes, upstairs, very good." He fires another arrow that I am not ready for. It hits the purple wall and they both shatter, energy disappearing into the air. He notches another one before I can process what's happening and fires. It hits me in the stomach. Damn this man, he's a good archer.

I double over in pain, willing the healing process not to start yet. I can't afford to black out in front of an enemy. Like slow motion this time, I can see him notching another arrow. I raise my hand and an orb of energy hits him, sending him flying up the stairs.

I groggily stand up, and climb after him. The only way out is up. He's standing at the top now, arrow aimed at me. With every step I can feel the arrow twist the muscle under my skin, but I don't have time to do anything about it. I extend my hand but he is ready and shoots the orb down.

Behind him an arm grabs his neck and throws him to the side. Zero is standing there, blood dripping from her face and neck.

I wonder what happened to that Black Widow person the archer was talking about, but I pass it off. Zero probably killed it. It's what we do to targets. And right now, any enemy is a target.

"Let's go," she sounds tired, exhausted even. I nod my head sharply and hobble up the stairs. When I am at the top she secures an arm around me to help me move. I wasn't expecting her to do that, so I am caught off guard. I don't even check to make sure that the archer is actually dead. I find myself with the hope that he's not. Then I change my mind and hope that he is.

Outside there are no agents. They must have thought the archer and Black Widow would have been enough. Obviously they were wrong. Stupid ass motherfuckers.

I told Zero to stop when we were half way to our pickup point. She stepped away from me and gazed at me with her large eyes as I did my thing. I took a deep breath and pulled at the arrow. Half of it came out. I looked down, but don't see the other half protruding from my skin.

It is inside of me; I can't pull it out with my hands. I don't want my skin to heal around it, I have to do something. I ask Zero is she has a knife, she hands me one.

Without a second thought I dig it into my skin, slicing through my suit and tissue. Blood seeps down my side, but I don't care. I feel the blade hit something and I hope for the best. I plunge the knife deeper into my stomach area, pushing at anything it hits. I feel something tear, but don't have the time to see what it is. The other half of the arrow is sticking out from my back. I fold the knife and toss it back to Zero, grabbing the arrow and sliding it out.

She continues to watch me, unmoving but still looking as if she wants to do something.

I double over, the skin of my knees splitting as I hit the ground. My vision doesn't go dark, it goes purple. Whatever tore open inside of me is slowly sowing itself back together, sending waves of pain to my brain. I won't give it the satisfaction of screaming, so I just bite into my tongue. My teeth slice into it, the taste of blood overpowering.

A cold hand touches my cheek and everything stops. The coolness spreads, washing over the pain and replacing it with cold, darkness. My vison clears and I see Zero kneeling in front of me, wispy grey smoke wrapping around her body and travel down her arm and onto my purple glowing one.

Her face is still blank, unclear and impossible to read. But something has changed. Her expression has lightened; it's no longer cold, just blank.

Her hand retreats and she regards me carefully. I am not sure what to make of what just happened, so I stand up and continue to walk. It is some time before Zero follows.

The walk back to the rendezvous is silent. I am far ahead of Zero, and I look back to make sure she is still following. There is a confused look on her face, but as soon as her eyes meet mine it is changed to the regular blank stare.

When we reach where we need to be, there is Sinwest's black car waiting for us. I slide in, and Zero does as well, not before giving the slightest, almost undetectable hesitation. I am almost about to pass it off as my imagination, and I don't know what stops me.

Sinwest holds out his hand and I pass him the drive. He regards me, bloody around the torso but seemingly fine. He regards Zero, bloody face and all, and then looks back at me.

"Nicely done," that is all he says. The rest of the ride is silent; Subject Zero turns her head to look out the window. I stare straight ahead.

Soon enough we are blindfolded and handcuffed. Not long after that we are back at HQ and being shoved inside. I can tell that Subject Zero is with me; we collide when being pushed into the elevator.

It's a long ride down, one that I never really pay attention to. Zero is shifting beside me, and I realize she is walking about the edges, making sure that nobody else in in here except us. I can't see here, but I am certain that is what she is doing.

She stops moving for a little bit, and then comes towards me. She bumps into me, sending me back into the wall. What the hell is she doing?

She comes towards me again, slower this time. Her head knocks into mine, and she whispers seven simple words into my ear before the elevator dings and arms grab us to put us back into our cells.

"You saved me, now I'll save you." That's new.


	5. Chapter 5

Exhilarating, tough, companion; gone.  
I am currently pacing in my cell. Zero's words are still ringing in my ears. Saved? I didn't do anything to help her; she's the one who had to help me. No, I don't need help. Help is for the weak.  
I am not weak. I punch the wall, splitting the skin over my knuckles. I punch it again, blood splattering on the dull grey concrete. I punch again and again, until the white bone is clear against the dark red of my blood.  
This is to prove that I am not weak. I will not flinch, I will not wince, and I will not show any emotion. I am strong. I will not let it hurt. I clench my fist, nails digging into my palm and drawing even more blood. I steady my breathing as the healing starts, the purple energy cocooning my hand.  
I breathe in. I exhale out. In. Out. In. Out. I am so focused on breathing that I don't even notice it has stopped. I look down at my hand and examine it.  
There is a knock on my cell door. My eyes snap too it, and narrow. Nobody knocks, they just enter. The mystery person knocks again, this time more urgent. I walk until I am just in front of the door, but don't go to open it.  
"Goddamn it, Five! Open the fucking door!" It's Zero. She sounds urgent. My head slowly tilts, but still I do not reach for the handle. I hear gunshots, and a lot of shouting. There are the familiar sounds of stomping boots and a fight, and then silence. I wait, staring at the door for something to happen. When nothing does, I go back over to my bed and sit on it.  
Well, now Subject Zero really will be just a myth. Something to scare the other subjects, frighten them into submission. It seems as if she is no more.  
I lay down, still not closing my eyes. I don't have the need to. Blink, I think they call it. Dust doesn't affect my eyes because the energy will just heal it. I still do, sometimes, when I remember, just to feel…..what's the word?  
My thoughts are interrupted when the urgent knock is back at my door.  
"Five, I swear to god…" The threat is empty, but spewed with a harsh tone.  
I stand, seemingly watching from inside my body as I walk to the door and open it. Zero stands there, bleeding in several places and panting, leaning heavily on the frame of my cell door. There is a large gash on her shiny head, sure to create another scar. Her big eyes meet mine, and we just stand there for a bit.  
Around her, dead bodies lay broken and disfigured upon the ground. I recognize a few of them, but can't place their names.  
With a blank face, I look back at her. My mind is calm, and that surprises me, but I don't know why. I feel frustrated, like I want my mind to be full of useless thoughts, and that frustrates me more. Thankfully, Zero interrupts my frustration and stops me from breaking something.  
"Come on, already." She is impatient, although she looks like she's too tired to move. I stay where I am, waiting for her to continue.  
"I said I'd save you. Well this is it, me saving you!" She reached forward and grabbed my arm, tugging me out from under the door frame.  
"Who said I needed to be saved?" I pause. "Who said I….wanted to be?"  
"What a stupid question," I hear her mumbled, slowly limping away. I trail behind. It makes me mad, what she said, but yet I don't want to kill her. Something inside of me is trying to say something, break free and scream something, but I simply shrug it off. She's never going to get out of here, and I'll be damned if she takes me back to testing.  
If she gets too close to the surface, I'll snap her neck.  
That seems a little harsh. Maybe I'll just main her slightly. Even if killing is more fun. Ugh. My thoughts are…not right.  
Zero is still limping when she presses the elevator button. I realize that every room we've been through there have been dead H.Y.D.R.A. agents on the ground, some bleeding and some still twitching. I wonder how long it will be when they send more. They have to know by now that two subjects are missing.  
We don't speak in the elevator, but by the way Zero is looking at me I'm guessing she regrets her decision to try and 'save' me. Save me from what? There is simply nothing to be saved from. I think she's been tested too much and something went wrong with her brain.  
There I go thinking again. I should really stop. But when I think of stopping, my brain just tell me not to inform Sinwest that I am faulty.  
When we are almost to the ground floor, Zero chooses that time to speak. "So, are you going to help me, or not?"  
I narrow my eyes at her, and suddenly I feel the need to go with her. I need her in my life, Zero and Five together, partners in everything. I shake my head. Stupidest thought ever. But I find myself nodding. If it was that easy for her to take out all the agents on one floor in a matter of minutes, this place deserves two breakouts.  
"Yea, it'll be easy." I am ready to break out. I will now choose my own mission, be my own person. I won't starve myself. I will only kill rich people who deserve it, and take their money. Maybe I will steal things if I need or want them. I will be a human being.  
Ha. Yea right. My thoughts laugh at me, poking fun and belittling. I don't care, something else inside of me tells me to be strong, and not to give up.  
Zero gives a slight nod and the elevator door open, revealing multiple agents kneeling in front of us, guns drawn. They are all shouting, telling us to stand down, don't move, the usual bullshit.  
Zero looks at me and I sigh. What the hell.  
I throw my arm up, a row of purple energy colliding with the first handful of agents. They are sent backwards, crashing into the wall. The bullets start to fire, and I move my other arm, creating a purple barrier between us and them.  
I flex my fingers, a faint purple glow around them. I sweep my hand, taking out more agents. Before I know it, they are all dead or unconscious, and Zero and I are out the door looking for a car to take.  
Zero spots one and limps over to it, opening the driver's door and sitting. She peers under the steering wheel and messes with wires, the car starting up soon after. I don't ask her how she knew what to do; I figure it was just part of her testing.  
A black car pulls up next to us and Sinwest steps out.  
"Agent Five, what do you think you're doing? Stand down." I look at Zero and notice fear upon her face. She looks at me.  
"Five, say no. You've always said yes, now you say no. You don't take orders from anyone except yourself. Say _no_."  
Sinwest pulls out a gun, and aims it at Zero. "Five, what have you gotten yourself into?" I feel anger bubbling up inside of me, and then the emotion is clear. Hatred. I hate agent Sinwest. I always have, and I always will.  
I grab his hand and squeeze, purple spreading over it and helping me by giving me the strength to crush his bones. The gun drops from his hands as I feel the bones snap, caving in on one another.  
He sinks to his knees, a look of pure shock and terror written on his face.  
"Subject Five-"I don't let him finish. Instead, I plunge my free hand into his throat and watch as he falls backwards, dead.  
Zero looks at me, and I shrug. Ever since her hand touched my check and the grey spread across my skin, I've felt different. I just didn't realize it until now. I felt like I was ready for more. So much more.  
I get into the passenger side and let her drive off. She seems to know where she's going. I sure as hell don't care. As long as I can wash the blood off my hands tonight, everything will be just fine.


	6. Chapter 6

Exhausting, challenging, playful; chase.  
"Drive! Drive! Drive!" She is screeching at me. I push my foot into the gas pedal, the tires of the car squealing against the pavement as we gain speed down the highway.  
We had been driving all night into morning only stopping once so I could drive. Zero was tired. I didn't even know how to drive, but, as it turns out, it's not that hard to learn. She slept in the passenger side and I chose roads at random to drive down. It actually had been pretty-how do you say it- I don't know. The opposite of bad, if that's even possible.  
Shortly after Zero had woken up the black cars had appeared. It wasn't hard to tell that they were following us. I let them until they pulled out guns.  
Now Zero is doing something so the side of me, the car is riddled with bullet holes, and cars are honking as I speed in and out between them. I wish everyday was like this.  
I guess I must be smiling because Zero says, "Are you enjoying this?" I am about to say yes when she adds, "Because I know I am."  
I grin and weave in-between another two cars, one honking and swerving to the side, crashing into another oncoming car. I don't have time to care, but I see Zero frown form the corner of my eyes. A bullet hits the back windshield am I am reminded to be (Thankful?) whatever the word is that the windows are bulletproof.  
"We need to get off the highway," Zero says. I nod, speeding up if that's even possible. It turns out it is.  
The other cars follow close behind, bullets occasionally bouncing off of the car, a few lucky ones nicking the windows. I take a chance and glance behind me, spotting a total of five pure black cars. There's nowhere to go, I can only continue weaving through cars until the next exit approaches. Zero is still fiddling with something in the passenger side, but I have no idea what it is and don't want to risk crashing in order to find out.  
I cause three more accidents before the next exit is view-able, and I swing the car to the right just grazing the guard rail before speeding off. The cars still follow closely behind, but as we head into a town they will be easier to lose.  
At a roundabout, I jerk the car to the side, a bullet hitting and shattering my side mirror. I swing the car the other way, sending two of H.Y.D.R.A.'s car crashing into each other. Two down, three to go.  
Driving into town, I swerve into the opposite lane right towards a semi-truck. He honks his horn at me and I continue on my way, looking back only to see one of the black cars in the same lane. At the last second I swerve into the side and the car is thrown into the ditch, the semi hitting the oncoming car and sending it skidding.  
"Come on," I open my door and don't wait to see if Zero follows as I run to a car in a dead stop behind the semi. I open the door and the young girl looks up at me, terror evident in her face. The semi is blocking the H.Y.D.R.A. agent's view of us.  
"Get out," I growl, grabbing her arm. She squeals and I toss her out, slamming the door shut. Zero gets in, carrying something in her hand.  
"Thank you!" She screams to the young female driver as I speed off the opposite way.  
"What the hell are you tinkering with over there?" I ask, turning the car a little more gently around a corner. I look in the review mirror and am slightly disappointment not to see any more black vehicles.  
"They're tracking us somehow." She mumbles in reply, attaching something with a soft clink.  
"And what are you building? The T2000?" I slow the speed of the car and get back onto the highway. I am confused on how I know that term, and wonder what it means.  
"Oh, shut the hell up. When I'm finished with this we attach it to a random car and the signal they're getting from us will be transferred to it."  
"Oh. How do you think they're tracking us?" I don't get why I'm asking so many questions. The freedom of being able to makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.  
"Well, we've both been tested on. I think it's something in our blood. But, seeing as we can't really get rid of our blood, this is the next best thing."  
"And how do you know how to build that?" I notice her eyes narrow and a frown appear on her lips.  
"I'm…not sure."  
I shrug. "Well, good going, Zero."  
"My name's Roxy," she snaps at me. I look at her wildly.  
"What?" I ask. Where the hell did she get Roxy from? I glance over at her to see her look just as confused as I am.  
"I'm- I'm not sure. J-just call me Roxy, okay?" I nod, and keep driving. I am still used to taking orders, I guess.  
"I have one more question," I tell her, turning down a dirt road. I hear her hum in response.  
"What did you mean when you said I saved you?" She scratches her neck and examines the scars on her arm.  
"When I…helped you," I remember the creepy grey smoke wrapping around my body and shudder. "Something clicked in my brain. Things are still fuzzy, but I remember certain parts of…well, reality. "  
None of that makes any sense to me, but I shrug it off.  
It's a silent ride for a long time before I hear Zero- or Roxy- swear.  
"Oh shit!" She exclaims, turning to look behind us. I look in my review mirror and grin slightly. The two remaining black cars are on our tail, easily gaining speed. I crack my knuckles and step on the gas, speeding around corners and even going off road on occasion. This car is definitely not made for off road.  
A bullet goes through the back windshield and the front one, slightly surprising me. I turn towards Zero- Roxy, dammit.  
"I guess the windows aren't bulletproof, huh?" She nods and we duck as we hear the gun go off, spraying bullets over our head and hearing windows shatter. "Almost done with whatever the hell you're doing?" She nods, and we leave it at that.  
I get an idea as the two cars branch off, one on either side of us. I press my foot all the way down on the pedal and speed forward, grin spreading as they do the same. Out of the corner of my eye I see an agent lean out the window, ready to take the shot. They both start driving towards me, hoping to cut me off. Just at the last second I step on the breaks and whip the car around, sending them to crash into each other. I rev the engine and squeal the tires and we speed off again, sending dust clouds into the air.  
I take a turn, the dirt road soon turning back into pavement. We pass several cars, people staring at the shattered windows and bullet holes. Roxy goes to roll down her window before realizing there isn't one, and leans her body outside, pressing the small metal contraption to a car as I drive past it. She sits back inside and rests her feet on the dashboard, sighing in content.  
My grin never falters as I continue to drive until it is dark out and Roxy's stomach starts to make a weird noise. I look at her, raising an eyebrow.  
"You have a malfunction," I tell her, slightly slowing the car. She gazes at me weirdly.  
"It's my stomach," she tells me, as if that makes everything better.  
"Exactly, you should get that fixed." I don't understand why she's not more concerned about this.  
"I'm hungry. You know, food? Don't you need to eat?"  
"Um, no, not really," I tell her.  
She sighs. "Of course you don't." What is that supposed to mean? "Here, pull over there."  
I do as she says and pull into the parking lot of a small wooden building. "Why are we here?" Roxy digs around in the dashboard before pulling out green slips of paper.  
"Come on," she says, "we're going to solve my malfunction." I shrug and get out after her, closing my door as she does.  
"What are the green things for?" I ask, tilting my head. Since when do I do that?  
"That's how we pay for-"she stops talking. "You know what? Just, never mind. Shut up and let me do all the talking." I shrug. I like not talking. It's what I've always done. I scold myself for talking so much in the past day. Maybe my stomach is malfunctioning just like hers.  
I can't even describe the inside of the building. I have never seen anything like it. There are many tables, and many people. Food is everywhere, people eating things I have never even seen before. Some big guy is eating round brown things with brown liquid on top of them. It looks good. Another person is eating these white things with yellow middles. They smell….not bad.  
Roxy sits down and hands me a large plastic thing. I look at her, rather confused. She takes it away from me. I don't mind, I feel very vulnerable right now. This place is too bright. There are too many people here. I think Roxy can sense my discomfort, as she smiles at me.  
"Five, don't worry, you'll be fine." I make a face at her. I don't need to be comforted. Comfort is for the weak. I may be going against orders, but that does not make me weak.  
A girl comes over and exchanges words with Roxy, and before I know it a bubbling drink is set in front of me along with a plate of those round brown things. I smile, following Roxy and picking up a silver metal tool and cutting into them. Roxy tells me they're called pancakes. I don't even care how she knows this, I like it too much.  
The clear drink is also good. What did Roxy call it? Seven Up? We enjoy the food in peace, and I noticed that her stomach isn't making any noise like it had before. Food is a good fix for stomach malfunctions.  
Roxy also says that I am enjoying this almost as much as she is. So that's the word. Enjoy. Huh, who knew? She's already had two plates of food and several drinks. Watching her eat is funny. It's like she never had food before. I am so engrossed in watching my strange companion eat that I don't see a tall, tan, muscular man walk into the place that Roxy has informed me is actually called a restaurant.  
I notice him when he drops his drink and it shatters on the floor. Roxy and I turn in our seats to see what just happened, and I feel myself go paler than I already am, which I thought not possible.  
We sit there and he stands there, all of us just staring at each other. Somebody comes by and cleans up the glass, but nobody moves. There is a fork hanging out of Roxy's mouth, but I don't have time to be amused. For some reason I don't feel like fighting. I've never felt this way before. I don't like it, but at the same time I kind of do.  
I don't want to run again, I rather like this place and the food. People are starting to stare, and Roxy shakes her head.  
"Come on, Five, it's time to go." I stare, eyes unmoving, as the stranger slowly turns and walks out of the restaurant.  
"He's waiting for us." I don't know how I know, I just do. I let Roxy tug me out of my chair and lead me out to talk to the reoccurring stranger. I feel a slight ache in my shoulder and I wonder if it will ever go away.


	7. Chapter 7

**((Hey, just a warning, there will be a lot of bad language in this chapter! I feel I should warn you, but there probably won't be any more warnings. This book will have a lot of graphic words and actions, so read at your own will. Enjoy!))**

Familiar, comfort, addicting; pain.  
Roxy leads the way as we follow the familiar stranger outside into the cracked pavement of the parking lot. He stops at a nice purple car, leaning against it and staring at me. Roxy stands a good few feet away from him and I next to her. I meet his gaze, but for some reason Roxy refuses too.  
Everything is silent. I hate it. Screw that, I had enough silence in H.Y.D.R.A. I have already decided that I am going to be a new person, even though I'm still not sure that I want to be.  
"Who are you?" My voice is harsh and shallow, making me happy. I would've been mad if my voice came out soft and weak. My shoulder aches with the familiar ghost hit of an arrow, and I shift on my feet, no longer being able to hold his gaze. Apparently the new me is a giant softie. How fun.  
"Oh come on, like you haven't heard of me?" He seems genuinely hurt. Like I should know who he is. Should I? I rack my brain, and then words start spewing out of my mouth. I don't know where they came from, or even if they're right.  
"You're Hawkeye, agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and member of the Avengers. Your skills include using a bow and arrows with precise precision beyond anybody or anything ever seen and over all having impeccable aim with anything given to you. You are one of the few top agents S.H.I.E.L.D. has ever seen but nobody except a few seem to realize that. And for some reason, you let them believe that instead of showing them what you can really do." I step back, slightly surprised and look up to see his reaction. His smile falters before he grins, showing me a set of perfectly white teeth.  
Whoa, don't know where that came from. His teeth are fine, I guess. He's not missing any that I can see. And I guess they're relatively straight, he must take good care of them. His teeth suit him well…if teeth can do that. What am I saying?  
"Aww, baby, you really think I'm that good? I mean, I know I am, but you really think so?" He crosses his arms, mischievous glint in his mysterious blue eyes.  
Well, I mean, they seem mysterious. I wouldn't know, it's not like I am staring into them or anything. And baby? Do I look like an infant to him? Maybe it's a term agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. use. That's nice. Okay, whoa. Guess the new me is going to be a creep, too.  
I frown, getting mad that I have shown him I am upset. "Okay, I know who you are. Why are you here?" His eyes slide over to Roxy briefly before I turn to face her.  
"Zero, what the hell." My skin feels itchy, and I have the nerve to flee. Things have changed a lot recently, and I think whoever I was before all the testing just can't handle it.  
Roxy crosses her arms and holds my gaze easily, pursing her lips before deciding to talk.  
"On our mission while you were doing whatever with bird boy over here," I took a glance at the rival agent (is he a rival? I'm not really part of H.Y.D.R.A. anymore…) and he seemed pretty pleased with himself. "I was upstairs duking it out with a lady who called herself Black Widow. Things weren't as…clear...to me as they are now, so I didn't understand what she meant when she said she could help me. She left a phone before fleeing out the window, and after you cleared my head I finally looked at it back in the base. There was only one contact, so I called." At this point Roxy turns to gaze forcefully at (what was it? Hawkeye?) I think I'll call him Birdy.  
"She was supposed to meet me in this parking lot, not him."  
Birdy shares her unhappy look before his gaze sweeps over me again.  
"Widow sent me to pick you up. You said nothing about bringing Miss I Never Blink here." Roxy shrugs, unfolding her arms and gazing at her nails.  
I didn't know what to say or do. I had only known Zero for what, like two days? And she goes and pulls this? There was only one thing to say.  
"You shot me." I feel cornered, like a kicked animal. It's painful, which makes me confused, because I thought pain was physical abuse. This feeling inside of me is new, and I very much do not like it.  
"Yes, many times. But don't worry; your bald friend chocked me. Call it even?" I hear Roxy scoff, but it sounds odd. It's far away, and clouded form my ears.  
I need to sit down. I am tempted to just crumple to the floor. I shake my head, tilting it and looking at Roxy. "Take us? Take us where?" My voice is hoarse now, and sounds small in my ears. I don't care, this feeling inside of me takes over everything and I want to go away. Just turn and walk away, never to be seen or see anybody ever again.  
"To S.H.I.E.L.D. Yea, it might take a while, but Five, we could be real good agents for a real good cause." I think that my ears are lying to me. I explode.  
"You want me to join S.H.I.E.L.D.?" I yell. "Just after leaving H.Y.D.R.A.? Do you know what they did to us there? My head may not be 'clear' like yours, but I have enough sense not to turn myself in to the enemy! Holy fucking hell." I put my hand to my forehead, and I am burning. That's when I notice, there's a faint purple tint to my pale skin.  
Roxy looks sad, and Birdy looks nervous, eyeing my glow with cautious eyes.  
"Five, trust me." She has to be kidding. Right?  
"Trust you? Are you kidding me? I don't even fucking know you!" I yell in aggravation, pounding my fist into the neighboring car of Birdy's, a black Corolla. A wall of purple energy surrounds it, crushing in the roof.  
"Holy fuck!" Birdy stares at me with wide eyes, probably forgetting to be calm and controlled like he was trained to be.  
Roxy sighs and takes a step closer to me. "Five, grow the hell up. You need help controlling your powers. Look at what you just did. You know that H.Y.D.R.A. was bad, and you just smashed some poor soul's car. I want to help you, that's why I did this."  
I sigh, running a hand through my horribly conditioned hair. For some reason, I feel very alert that I probably look like a piece of shit. It would be okay, though, I feel like one too. Although, it would feel nice to look…no, I don't care how I look. I want to feel good. I feel like I'm dying.  
"They'll keep us in containment." I try one last time to reason with her. She shakes her head and gives me a small smile, crossing her arms one more time. Why is she so persistent? Then again, I guess I am as well.  
"So? They'll keep us in containment; they won't make us be their slaves. Come on, Five. Let's go from one shithole to a slightly better, less shitty, shithole." A hopeful look appears in her chocolaty eyes. "Please?"  
Birdy chooses this time to budge in. "It'll be fun! Friendly road trip!" Roxy and I glare at him, and he shuts up, grumbling under his breath and leaning against his car again.  
I turn my head and share a glance with Roxy, and she smiles wider at me. "Please?"  
"A word, please?" I look at Birdy. "In private?" I nudge my head over to the side and walk away, standing a few feet from the car.  
"Ride leaves in two minutes!" I hear Birdy call. Then he does the most peculiar thing. Instead of getting in the nice purple car, he walked over to a delivery truck and gets in the driver's side.  
I take a deep breath out of anger and glare at Roxy.  
"Oh yea," she laughs. "We get to ride in the back of a delivery truck!"  
I want to scream. I want to scream and cry and throw a fit, but then I would be just like all of my targets. Every single one of them, asking why, begging to know the answers so obvious in front of them. Trying to shield their children from ever thinking there was evil in the world.  
There is evil in the world. I am part of it.  
I close my mouth that I did not know was open and motion for Roxy to lead the way. If I am to do this, I shall do it without a complaint.  
The only thing worse than being evil is being good, but too stupid to realize it.  
Roxy walks over to the back of the white truck and opens the door. I sigh, and only start to get in when I hear the truck start up. I haul myself in, still not sure if I have made the right choice or not. In fact, the past day or two could have cost me my life. I guess I'll just have to wait and see.  
There is nothing in the back, just an empty pail. I start to think this is a joke. I help Roxy in and she shuts the back door, all light diminishing the second she does so. I sit down across from her, the pail tipping over and rolling around on the floor when the truck starts to move.  
It's a few minutes before I decide that I can't handle it and throw the pail off the back of the truck. It hits the car behind us and I smile.  
Almost immediately after, the truck stops. I wonder where we are when Birdy opens the back of the truck, throws another pail- this time it's blue- into the back and shuts the door again. From behind the door I can hear him say "Don't move my stuff!" Before there is a clicking sound that is all too familiar. He has locked us in.  
Even though he can't see my hand, I flip him off. Roxy hides a smile behind her hand and I flip her off, too. If I'm in a bad mood, so will everybody else. That's the kind of person I'm going to be.  
The ride is silent, not a word spoken between me and Roxy. I don't know what to say, anyways. I can hear a soft melody coming through to the back from Birdy's driver spot, just audible through the noises of the rolling pail. He's playing music.  
As the minutes pass by, I am more and more certain that he put the pail back here to annoy us. I hold out my hand and concentrate, purple energy seeping out of the air and slowly molding over the baby blue bucket until it is completely covered and provides a soft light with its glow.  
I close my hand rapidly, and the bucket explodes, the purple energy around it absorbing the blow. I wave my hand and our source of light disappears, leaving me wanting to drift off into sleep. That's odd, I don't have a need to, so why would I?  
Countless turns, bumps, and random noises later, we're still on the road. I don't know how long it's been, but surely at least a couple of hours. We haven't stopped once in that entire time. I look over to see if Roxy has noticed the same thing, only to find her crumpled in a ball, eyes closed and soft snores escaping her mouth. I roll my eyes.  
Might as well try and get some sleep, right? I do as she did and curl up into a tight ball, pressing my knees to my chest. Huh, it's actually not bad. I press my eyes close, and sure enough, the darkness welcomes me.


	8. Chapter 8

Deadly, funny, dangerous; bathrooms.  
I wake up to the vehicle taking a sharp turn, sending my body crashing into Roxy's. My eyes snap open and I gaze around frantically, Roxy's bony but yet strong arms trying to push me away. What's going on? Is the archer still mad about the pail?  
The car then swerves the other way, the both of us tumbling to the right of the back.  
Roxy scrambles to her feet, and as carefully as she can, walks to the wall separating us from the outside world. She closes her hand into a fist and bangs on the wall.  
"Hey, yo archer!" For some reason, I am slightly amused at her word choice. She sounds very angry, but I just can't seem to take her seriously. "You try'n 'ta kill us, or what?" I don't have time to try and place Roxy's accent, as the truck swerves again, Roxy crumbling on top of me as I slide into her.  
"Hawkeye?!" Roxy tries again, sounding just a bit more urgent. It's killing me not being able to see what's going on. I am tempted to just lift the back hatch, but then I risk the danger of dying. Always know what you're walking into before you walk into it. But that goes against me getting in the back of the truck, so maybe I should just open it. My thoughts are ever so rudely interrupted.  
"Little busy! We've got some playmates!" I hear his voice reply, sounding thin and urgent. It just all the more makes me want to crush some heads in.  
We tumble again, and I smack my head against the side wall. I refrain from making a noise, as that was how I was trained. I reach a hand up to my forehead and pull it back, read ooze covering it. I hold my breath and bite my tongue as the inside cabin is lit with a faint purple glow, my cells recombining and forming new tissue around the cut. If this ride is going to be bumpy, I might want to refrain from injuring myself.  
I motion for Roxy to come over by me and sit, and she does. I open my hand and concentrate, making purple energy connect us to the wall.  
After about an hour or so, I stop concentrating on the energy around us and allow myself to take a deep breath. Maybe Zero is right; I need to learn how to control my powers so that I don't get so winded when I use them. But that's all, I'm not staying at S.H.I.E.L.D. one second longer than I absolutely have to. The delivery truck has stopped swerving, so I assume that we are in the all clear.  
Roxy gets up and starts pacing, and it takes all my might from telling her to sit the fuck down. I turn away from her, deciding that sleep actually feels good, and that I deserve more. I am not aware of when I actually fall asleep, but I know that it feels nice, calm, and relaxing.

I wake up to Zero nudging me in the ribs with her foot. It's a lot gentler than being stabbed, I can tell you that. I roll over, glaring up at her. My mind seems clear, so I am a little distracted and miss what she says to me. I shake my head slightly.  
"Huh?" I ask, sitting up. Damn, I really need to pay more attention to things.  
"Goddamn, you need hearing aids," is her response. My mind is clear, but I still do not appreciate name calling. Whoa, what's all this appreciate crap? You call me a name; I'll pound your fucking face in.  
"What the hell did you just say?" I ask, standing up to meet her stance. She seems to back down a little. Good. You should fear me. If you don't fear me, then I haven't done my job correctly.  
"Half-way mark," she says, avoiding my gaze. "Pit stop." I now find myself annoyed with her and her strangely satisfying accent that I cannot place for the life of me.  
I brush past her, throwing the back of the truck open. My eyes flash purple before they adjust, and I hop out, leaving Roxy to squint and try and follow me.  
I see bird brain filling up for gas and walk over to him. I can't help but notice that he's not that bad looking, for a complete idiot.  
"I need to take a piss," I tell him, cracking my knuckles. He rolls his eyes at me and smirks holding out a pair of handcuffs.  
"Well aren't you lady like?" He asks, motioning me to hold out an arm. I scoff at him. Me, lady like? How insulting.  
"You have got to be kidding me," is all I can say as he handcuffs me to Zero. I get the intention, it's not to keep us from getting away, it's a trust exercise. He and I both know I can easily break these cuffs. If I return with them still intact, who knows, maybe he'll call me a good girl and give me a treat.  
"Let's go," I say, not waiting before I pull Zero into the gas station and into the line for the little ladies room. We're getting a lot of weird looks so I flip them all off. Zero-Roxy, er whoever the hell I'm handcuffed to, smirks.  
Using two different stalls while handcuffed to each other is hard work, but goddamn it feels nice to pee. Getting out almost took more effort than getting in.  
We wash our hands when I glance behind us and notice and the lady looks away. Great, just what I need, trouble everywhere I go. Roxy reaches for a paper towel and so do I.  
"Purse lady's been in the bathroom the entire time. Either she thinks I have a great ass, or she knows we're ex-H.Y.D.R.A."  
Roxy glances behind us and rolls her eyes, giving out a light sigh. I can tell she's tired of all this bullshit, too. Sometimes I don't want to hurt people, but oh, is it fun.  
"Y'all might want to leave the bathroom," she says to the innocents. Nobody moves, and she shrugs. "I warned 'cha."  
Purse lady reaches for her gun (coincidentally located in her purse) but before she can do that, Roxy rips the towel machine from the wall and hurls it at the lady, nailing her right in the head. The women scream and run, really just being a bunch of pansies about the whole ordeal.  
Five more ladies come out from the stalls, advancing on us slowly. I know how it goes; I can't use my powers in case witnesses or cameras catch me. I sigh, getting in a fighting stance, which is a little hard when you're handcuffed to another girl.  
One swings at me and I go to block, accidentally pulling Roxy in front of me and in turn she gets hit. I don't have time to apologize; more agents are running at us from different parts of the store. I feel my hair getting pulled, and I can't help to think but wow, that's low. I spin, but get in the way of Roxy and her girl. This whole handcuff thing is not going to work out.  
I get pulled to the ground, almost taking Zero with me. My head gets slammed into the tile floor, taking a few out. I get punched in the gut and kicked in the face, the metallic taste of blood entering my mouth. I don't have time to focus on that right now; I'm too busy trying to pull my thumb out of socket. With a pop it folds in and I slip my hand out of the cuff, swinging it into the mouth of an agent. I pull one on top of me and trip another one, hauling myself up to my feet.  
When there are only a couple of agents left, I grab one by the hair and smash her face into the sink counter a few times, only stopping when she's lost a few teeth.  
I see Zero having some trouble so I grab the cuff still connected to her hand and pull it around the neck of her agent, slicing it into her neck and breaking the cuffs at the same time.  
My breathing is heavy as I gaze at our work, satisfied very much. It feels a bit weird to be happy that I beat the shit out of people I don't know, but I've been doing it for as long as I remember, so I let the thought go. I imagine that Zero must feel the same way, as she has the ghost of a smile on her lips. I wonder what kind of missions she got as a test subject. How many people she's killed.  
One of the agents stir so I slam their head into the ground with a satisfying thwack.  
That is when I notice that I hurt, in many places. The sudden thought of the pain of energy healing makes me want to scream. I would rather endure the pain I have right now, which is probably a few bruised ribs, smashed face, the usual, than ever have to heal fast again. I think Roxy knows that, and she touches a hand to my shoulder.  
"We'll ask our chauffeur for medical help, don't worry about it." I nod weakly, bending down to pick up the broken handcuff. So much for a trust exercise. I wonder why the cops haven't been called when it dawns on my. Birdy's an Avenger, he can call off the cops whenever he pleases.  
"Come on, Zero, we still have a ways to go before we arrive at S.H.I.E.L.D." Roxy gives me a bloodied smile, filled with hope and excitement. I can't help but feel bad for her, all the hope and she doesn't even know it's useless.  
We walk out of the gas station together, getting plenty more weird looks. We make our way to the archer, who is checking something on his phone.  
He looks up at us with a grin on our face before it quickly falls, a horrid expression now evident. "What the hell happened to you two?" He asks, looking us over. As his eyes pass over me, worry seems to be evident in them. It feels nice, to have someone worry over me, but I don't want him to. I handled myself, and I'm just fine, for the most part.  
I hold out my hand, waiting for him to do the same. When he does, I place the broken cuff into his soft yet warm palm, offering a small smile.  
"Sorry, we broke your handcuffs." He cracks a small smile that soon turns into a wide grin and then a laugh. A rather nice laugh that makes me wants to laugh as well. I go for a slightly bigger smile, instead.  
"Come on," he says, still smiling, "let's get you all patched up and better. We'll stop a few miles down the road, when the coast is clear." I nod and share a glance with Roxy, unusually at ease with myself.  
"Yea, alright. That sounds good." Archer dude leads us behind the truck again, opening the door for us. Zero hauls her in first, and offers me a hand. I hesitate, only for a moment, before grabbing her hand firmly and climbing in myself.  
As Birdy closes the door and my eyes adjust to the dark in a flash of purple, I can't help but think that maybe I have earned trust today, and given it as well.


	9. Chapter 9

Dignity, beauty, damnation; reflection.

The truck stops again, but this time I do not worry. I have spent the time getting to know Roxy, and actually enjoying her company. Ever since the bathroom incident, my mind has stopped focusing on what is enemy and what is ally, and it is starting to just go with what is coming. I've killed so many and done so much harm that I deserve whatever is to come.  
I like this different feeling; it's nice to feel something other than hatred.  
The back of the truck opens and I see Birdy standing there, looking over me worriedly.  
"What?" I ask, and wince in pain. I have forgotten that I willed my powers not to heal me. I was sure of it at the time, but now I am not positive that it was the best idea. Roxy gives my shoulder a light squeeze and jumps off the back, waiting for me to follow.  
I sigh and force myself to walk to the edge, slowly and painfully lowering my body out of the truck bed. Once my feet touch the ground I stumble, and the archer instinctively reaches out to steady me.  
My mind flashes back to arms grabbing me, forcing me back into the cold metal chair. A mouth guard is shoved into my face and metal claps dig into my skin.  
I hear a buzzing sound, and I am screaming, screaming until my voice is horse and I still scream. They all hear me, but nobody comes to my rescue. The pain makes me forget, makes me into a killer that I do not want to be. The hands control me, forcing me to do as they please.  
I push his hands away, falling face-first into the mud. I feel my body shudder, as I try to block out the memory. I know that it's good to be away from them, but I do not like to be scared. To be scared is to be weak.  
I lay there, shivering in the mud as Roxy and the archer gaze down at me. They both look so different, Roxy stares at me with cold understanding, her own memories being triggered in her mind. The archer looks sad, almost as if he doesn't like to see me like this. That's okay; I don't like to feel like this.  
I shakily stand to my feet, not making eye contact with the either of them as I make my way over the side of the truck and lean on it, sliding down until I am sitting in the wet grass. The coldness seeps through my pants, but I hardly notice. I flinch as somebody sits near me, and I look over, only to see the archer meeting my gaze.  
"What do you want, archer?" I ask, ashamed of myself as my voice quivers. I do not recognize this voice; it is so soft and innocent.  
He says nothing, but simply pulls out a medical kit and opens it, pulling out disinfectant and bandages. His hands pause at my face, as if asking for permission. I look away, and soon hiss when he disinfects the cut on my forehead.  
It takes a while, but when he's done with my visible wounds, he goes to leave me to treat the one on my stomach. He is walking away when I call after him.  
"Wait, archer." I whisper, to ashamed to meet his gaze. I know he stops, as he soon replies.  
"What?" He is curious, as if whatever I have to say truly interests him.  
"I do not know how to stich wounds," I inform him, defeated. I hear him walk back over in my direction and crouch next to me.  
"Are you serious?" He asks, sounding slightly amused. I feel heat in my face, unsure of what it means.  
"Do not mock me, archer. I have never had the need to treat my wounds in such a way." At this I turn to look at him, anger clear in my gaze. How dare he think himself better than I?  
"Hey," he says softly, taking the medical scissors from my hand. I don't let my hand linger, and immediately pull it back to my side. "It's okay, I'll show you." I sniff, and nod attentively. "And hey, you can call me Clint, okay?"  
"Thank you," I say, rolling up my shirt to just above my wound. It's a long gash scraping from my side all the way to the middle on my stomach, and is bleeding pretty bad. Clint only nods and begins his work.  
I watch him, slightly intrigued at how steady his hands are, and how concentrated his expression his. I don't know why he is so nice to me, but I find myself enjoying it.  
He finishes on my wound and I thank him again before watching him nod shortly and walk over to Roxy and check on her. I still say sitting where I am, rolling down my shirt after admiring the stitches. Will I finally get a scar? I've always wanted one. I have a few, but I was told I got them before all of my testing.  
My head snaps up at the sound of laughter, and I watch my two acquaintances share banter. I can't help but notice how different the two are as they laugh, as well. Roxy has her arms crossed in front of her chest and her shoulders shake lightly as she gives more of a scoff than a really laugh. Clint throws his head back and lets out a loud chuckle, not afraid to hide his enjoyment of whatever was just said. His shoulder shake and his eyes squint.  
I don't notice I'm smiling until I force it to turn into a frown.  
I watch as Clint excuses himself, running to the front of the truck to grab something out of the cab. At this point I find myself tired for some odd reason, and lean my head back with a thunk as it hits the side of the vehicle. I let out a sigh and am ready to let the sleep take over when Clint's face appears in front of mine, smiling.  
"Come on, I've got…stuff!" He stands up from his crouch and walks back over to Roxy, plopping the bags down in front of her. Once she peers inside, she appears to be delighted, and looks up to wave me over. I sigh, deciding that I want to see what all this fuss is about.  
I sit across from Roxy, crossing my legs and eyeing the bags warily. Clint seems to find my hesitance funny, as he lets out another happy chuckle and reaches into the bag himself.  
I don't know exactly what his hand emerges with, but by the smell of it I can determine that it is food. My stomach chooses that moment to let out a grumble, making both Roxy and Clint laugh. I eye them warily, wondering when exactly they became buddy buddy.  
Next, Clint pulls out something that makes my eyes narrow with hatred. It's just a small one, but it's there, nonetheless. I catch the reflection of the sky from it, and force myself not to reach out and smash it into millions of tiny pieces. I hate mirrors.  
I guess my extreme discomfort was evident, because Clint raises an eyebrow at me in an unamused way.  
"Don't tell me you're afraid of mirrors." I sneer at him, shoving my mouth full of more food.  
"Don't be stupid, of course I'm not afraid of mirrors."  
"Then what's wrong with them, exactly?" He asks, now clearly confused.  
"They're liars," I state. I thought everybody knew this? Poor fool, doesn't understand what mirrors do to you.  
"We were trained to hate mirrors," Roxy explains. "To us, mirrors represent lies, betrayal, and dishonestly. They show us exactly who we are, as well as who we are not. They told us to smash every mirror we ever see without another thought. To them, mirrors meant a way to trigger old thoughts, ancient memories of who we once were. Mirrors where something that could make us whole again." I think that is the most words I have ever heard Roxy speak in the whole three or four days I've known her. I'm slightly impressed, and slightly annoyed. I like her better when she doesn't talk so much.  
"Oh." Is all Clint can say. I roll my eyes.  
"Here, let me see that thing." Roxy reaches out and snags the mirror from Clint, holding it in front of her head. She makes a face and nods her head, wiping her mouth with the back of her other hand.  
"Not bad, if I do say so myself." She looks at me, and holds the mirror in my direction. "Come on, short stack, take a turn." I do not understand why she is calling me short, as I am taller than her, but I dismiss that thought.  
My hand is shaky as it reaches for the mirror, fingers closing around the edge and bringing it to my face.  
I blink, something I don't normally do, and my mouth opens slightly. My face is smudged with dry blood and dirt, hair sticking to my insanely pale cheeks. The bags under my eyes make me look like a zombie, and my lips are cracked, just making me more convinced that I might actually be a zombie.  
But the more I look at the mirror; I can't help but notice how much it is telling the truth. I look like a giant pile of steaming dog shit. And, hey, guess what? I feel like a giant pile of steaming dog shit.  
I set the mirror down, offering a small smile.  
"At least now I know what death looks like." Is all I can say, earning two big smiles from my companions.  
"Hey, she does have a sense of humor!" I can't allow him thinking that, can I?  
"Shove off," I mutter, earning just the hint of a smirk in return.  
We must have been outside for longer than I thought, because the sun is starting to set. It actually is rather nice to look at, but I know we can't afford to stay much longer.  
"Come on," I hear Clint say, "We'll be at S.H.I.E.L.D. by morning if we leave now."  
I nod my head absently, allowing Roxy to help me to my feet. She looks to be in better condition than me, only having a few minor scrapes and bruises, along with a deep gash in her cheek. I wonder how she's healed so fast, but then again, maybe she didn't have that significant of injuries in the first place.  
Clint gets into the driver's side and shuts his door, the vehicle soon roaring to life. Roxy slides open the back and easily climbs in, turning around to offer me a hand. I don't hesitate before I take it this time, wincing as I shift the wrong way. I am not used to such pain, but I know I will have to be accustomed to it if I ever want to live a normal life.  
Ha, that's funny. For a brief moment I thought that I could ever have the chance to be normal again. I make that clear to myself right not that that will never be an option, as that ship has sailed a long, long time ago. I can never have a normal life, but I can change my current one. If I ever gain S.H.I.E.L.D.'s trust, maybe, just maybe, they'll let me in on the fun. And maybe Roxy can have a bit of that fun, as well.  
I share a small smile with Roxy before closing the back hatch, emerging us once again into the darkness. And this time, I greet it with a smile, much like an old friend. After all, darkness hides what the light brings out.  
It's better for me to stay hidden, the light would expose too much.


	10. Chapter 10

Lies, humor, skill; agent.

The ride holds no other important stops or conversations. I exchange words with Roxy throughout the trip, and I feel like we are growing closer. She still doesn't answer any of my questions about her past. I can't answer any of mine, the memories are still a bit fuzzy.  
I can feel the truck start to slow down, and suddenly I am very anxious. I want to know what is behind that door, but it is so safe and warm in here. I am growing softer with every second of every day. I shake my head as to clear my thoughts, and I feel a hand on my shoulder. I look up to see Roxy, and she gives me a warm smile. I return it with a small one of my own, before the back door opens and light floods in. Per usual, I don't close my eyes as the pain hits them, instead I see purple for a second and then my vision is normal. I take a deep breath and stand, exiting the vehicle just after Roxy, standing beside Clint.  
I gaze around, noticing the large building we have stopped at. I recognize it immediately at S.H.I.E.L.D.'s HQ, but my gaze is drawn from it. We've stopped in the parking lot, and I hear two doors open. I watch as a handful of agents walk calmly out, stopping in unison in a line in front of us. I see Roxy stiffen next to me but I remain calm, watching with a careful eye. I am sure I am doing the right thing.  
Clint walks forward with a smile on his face, reaching out to shake the hand of an agent who stands just a little more forward than the rest of his line. The man has brown hair and is wearing an expensive suit just like the rest of them. A pair of sunglasses sit perched on his nose. I hear Clint exchange a few words with him, before they both come walking in our direction. Clint has an aloof smile on his face as if he is proud of his work, while the big scary agent man is looking Roxy over with a calm manner. They stop just in front of us, the wind blowing agent's tie over his shoulder.  
"That's Roxy, the one who contacted Tash," Clint introduced her, and Roxy's eyes scan over him with the same calm demeanor. The agent nods his head, and turns to look at me. Clint motions to me, and I flick my eyes to him for only a second. "This is..." He scratches the back of his neck and frowns. "Well, I don't know. They call her Subject Five."  
The agent holds out a hand to me, and I take it with much hesitation. "Agent Phil Coulson of S.H.I.E.L.D.," he introduces himself as, turning to shake the hand of Roxy. He takes a step back, smile growing on his face. "I hope you understand that we have to take you in for some tests and questions before we can really start," he speaks with almost an apologetic tone of voice. I don't say anything, and neither does Roxy. His smile falters.  
"Yeah, they're real talkative," Clint snorts, sharing an amused look with Phil.  
"Well then, right this way," Phil says, starting to walk back to the building in which he came from. I glance at Clint, and he gives me a reassuring nod of the head. I take a breath and start to walk, all too aware of my surroundings as SH.I.E.L.D. agents surround me and Roxy as we enter the building. I can't even see if Clint walks in with us. We are lead down multiple corridors, and I try to get a sense of where I am but I cannot. We have walked up and down stairs, in and out of rooms, and much more. I think we are underground, but I cannot be too sure of myself. I follow Coulson blindly, not even knowing if Roxy is still next to me. All I can see in all four directions are agents, staring straight ahead and waling in sync. I think I hear people working, but I certainly do not hear any voices. We can't be alone in this big building, can we?  
After what seems like ages, I find myself being stopped. I stand on my tippy-toes to try and see what is going on, but either I am really short or the agents around me are all giants. I cannot see over their heads. A door opens and the agents step aside so they are in frowns to my left and right. Roxy is not with me but Coulson stands at the door, holding it open for me to enter. I do so, and he closes the door behind me. I hear a familiar click and realize that somebody has locked us in.  
The room reminds me much of my cell back at home. No, back at H.Y.D.R.A. It has bare cement walls, with a table and two chairs sitting in the middle of it. I sit down in the chair, facing the wall with the big mirror on it. I know that it is a one-way mirror. I grab the edge of my seat, suddenly feeling a bit nervous about being here. What if I get questioned and they decided they don't agree with my answers? They wouldn't throw me back to H.Y.D.R.A. would they?  
Phil sits down across from me, his back facing whoever is behind the mirror watching us. Watching me. I glare past his head, wishing I could make out some shape of what is behind there lurking. Phil has a smile on his face, and he sets down a clipboard I didn't even see him grab on the table. He has folded his sunglasses and tucked them onto the front of his shirt, revealing slightly wrinkled but yet still incredibly young looking brown eyes. I flick my eyes to the clipboard, but can't make out what's on it. A photograph of some kind.  
"Miss... Agent Five," Phil greets me kindly. I stare at him. "I'm just here to ask you a few questions, okay?"  
"Where is Roxy," I want to know. I need to know. Phil doesn't stop smiling at me. His smile makes me feel wanted, and that makes me uncomfortable.  
"She's just across the hall going through the same process as you. Don't worry, she's perfectly safe." But she can't be perfectly safe. Phil and I are both in here. Who's with Roxy? I guess Phil's a good agent; he seems to see my discomfort. "The director of S.H.I.E.L.D. himself is in that room with her. Everything will be quite alright," he reassures me. I glance cautiously at him.  
"May I start now?" He asks. I give him a nod of my head. He clears his throat and turns to look at a page on the clipboard. I try to get a glance of the photo but I see nothing.  
"You were with H.Y.D.R.A. correct?" Is his first question. I slowly nod my head. "For how many years?"  
I try to think. It seems like just a short while. "I don't know. Three months?" I say more like a question. The answer doesn't feel right and Coulson gives me a look that I almost didn't catch.  
"How would you describe yourself?" What an odd question. How can I answer something such as this? I try anyways. What am I like... Well first, I have to know who I am. Well, I'm Subject Five. Wait, that's not a name. I feel my face contort into that of a confused look. Phil watches me closely. Intently. Suddenly I think back to something that he said.  
"Wait. You said Miss." I grow to a realization. "Do you know my name?" I ask him. He grows another smile. So he had done it on purpose, to see if I would catch on. I have a name. I have an actual name. He let's go of the paper on the clipboard, the picture landing face up. Slowly-too slow, he turns the clipboard and slides it in front of me. I hold his gaze as he watches me, and I slowly slide my eyes down to the picture.  
It's of a little girl. The same one I see in my nightmares sometimes. I used to think the girl was me. Then I was sure she couldn't be me. She was too happy. I've never felt happy before. I've felt content, the same content whenever I pull the trigger and watch as somebody's body drops to the floor. I feel content when I kill people.  
The girl in the photo looks to be about seven. She's younger than I thought I remembered her. She's sitting on a swing, showing off her crooked teeth with a big grin. Her eyes are bright blue; the bluest blue I've ever seen. Her skin is pale, and her long brown hair is thick and falls to her mid-back. She's so skinny, and so happy. Just all the more reason she can't be me. My eyes are purple. My teeth are straight. My hair is worn and messy.  
I look below the picture and see in big red letters "MISSING". There are names by it, or at least I think there are multiple. The first one I see is Jackson. I'm supposed to call Jackson if I find this little girl. I don't even get to see the last name before my heart rate triples and I fall limply to the floor. My eyes stay wide open but I see darkness.  
 _"_ _Jackson, stop!" The little girl from the picture screams. She's giggling, lying on the floor as a boy of older age, about eleven, kneels over her, tickling her ribs. She's laughing and crying at the same time, kicking out and trying to push the elder boy off of her._  
 _"_ _Say the magic word!" Jackson tells her, a grin of his own plastered across his lips. He has blonde hair, just beginning to darken. His eyes are of a deep brown color, and his skin is nicely tanned. He continues to torture the little girl until she's gasping for air, unable to even snort in laughter._  
 _"_ _Please stop!" She giggles after she catches her breath, pushing a hand to the boy's face and shoving him away._  
 _My vision shifts and the little girl is scared, running from a room and stopping by the stairs. "I'm sorry, Jackson!" She screams, terribly frightened. Jackson appears from the room next, holding a broken toy in his hand. His face is angry, his fists clenched._  
 _"_ _I told you not to play with my toys!" He screams harshly at her. She cowers in fear, apologizing again. "I told you! You never listen!" He says, bending down so he is level with her face. She tries to push him back and he snaps at her, pushing her backwards instead._  
 _She slips in the top step and falls, tumbling down the stairs and landing in a pile on the ground. Jackson watches in horror, racing down the steps after her._  
 _He bends down next to her, checking to see if she is alright. She's crying, but trying to be brave. "It's okay, Jackson, I'm sorry I broke your toy."_  
 _"_ _You better not tell mom and dad what happened," he warns her. She nods to him. In her eyes there is so much admiration, yearning to do whatever she can for the boy's approval. She just wants him to like her._  
 _The scene changes again, and the little girl and Jackson are sitting on the couch. She shits, her foot stretching onto the cushion he is sitting on. He glares at her._  
 _"_ _You better move your foot," he warns her. She shakes her head at him, too busy watching the cartoon playing on the TV._  
 _Jackson shifts over and punches her thigh, and she retracts her foot right away. Growing angered, she punches him back though the force is maybe one tenth as powerful._  
 _"_ _What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jackson spits at her. He hauls her off the couch and onto the floor, and she starts to cry. A vehicle can be heard pulling into the drive way on the house, and Jackson starts to panic._  
 _"_ _Hey, you're okay, right?" He asks the little girl in front of him. She nods her head, wiping her eyes._  
 _"_ _Yeah, that's it, give me a smile, won't you?" He attempts to make her smile, laugh, anything so that he won't get in trouble. The little girl obeys, giving off a laugh right as her parents walk in. They see her and the boy laughing, and smile to each other._


End file.
